Trade Mistakes
by fbis.most.unwanted
Summary: Sherlock Holmes had always been more of a solitary man. He didn't care for the company of others –he didn't need it. Then came John Watson, the singular exception to the detective's distaste for companionship. But all things must end -Sherlock found that out the hard way.


Sherlock Holmes had always been more of a solitary man. He didn't care for the company of others –he didn't need it. The detective found it was much easier –and far more preferable- to carry out his work alone. Other people would only slow him down, and he didn't want that.

But then came John Watson, the singular exception to Sherlock's distaste for companionship. He would even go so far as to say he and the army doctor were friends.

Sherlock became accustomed to the doctor's presence. It was an annoyance at first, but as time went on, the two fell into a routine.

Even from the beginning, Sherlock knew there was something that set John apart from the others. Maybe it was because he not only tolerated the detective's deductions and consultant work, but _admired _them. And Sherlock had to admit, it was a surprisingly nice change to have someone to talk to. The skull was suitable, but John actually talked back.

It was certainly different, but it was nice.

While John was nowhere near Sherlock's intelligence, that didn't mean he wasn't helpful. Numerous cases would probably not be solved if it weren't for the doctor's ideas (though Sherlock would never admit this).

Sherlock didn't even realize he had grown attached to another person until it was too late. The detective was never one to show his emotions, or acknowledge them at all, for that matter.

But all things must end; Sherlock discovered this the hard way.

Despite what most would say, sentiment always had, and always would be, Sherlock Holmes's fatal flaw. Sometimes, it was its presence, sometimes its absence. But nonetheless, it always seemed to cause problems.

The detective was not perfect. In fact, there was a time when he did everything physically possible to tear it apart, but even after he put the pieces back together, there were always a few holes left behind.

Sherlock was by no means what one would describe as "nice", or "friendly", or "caring". Though he would never admit it, he was a machine, not that that bothered the man. Sherlock simply preferred to lock away his emotions.

A person could only experience so much sentiment before it stopped being natural and became a gaping, hollow void of darkness. It was only logical to want to keep away from something so sinister, wasn't it?

Of course, locking away all of your emotions had a defect: they always came back to haunt you. Sherlock was not aware of this when he turned away from sentiment, but even if he had, he probably would have done the same thing.

And standing on that rooftop was when those concealed emotions decided to take the stage once again. Because Sherlock knew something that had been foreign to him for the longest time: pain.

He knew why people felt pain. As Sherlock's eyes flicked toward the ground, he knew what –more specifically, who- he would be leaving behind.

He wasn't dying, which in a way, made it even worse. Sherlock couldn't tell John what was happening, no matter how much he so desperately wanted to. John had to truly believe his best friend had thrown himself off a rooftop.

Sherlock knew he would be forced to hide in the shadows, keeping a look out for John in secret. He didn't want to see the effects of his death crushing the doctor. John was no stranger to sadness.

Sherlock had no regard for the feelings of others, but he could not hurt John.

However, the detective was left with no other option. If he didn't hurt his best friend, Sherlock would lose him.

Maybe it was selfish, but Sherlock didn't think he could live without John. He would be lost without his blogger.

Sherlock wanted to take down Moriarty, but he didn't want to do it alone. On that rooftop, Sherlock finally grasped one of the most important lessons John would ever teach him.

Sometimes it really was better to save a life than solve a case.

Why was this so difficult? It shouldn't be this hard. Sherlock was not dying –the plan was already in place. So, why was the detective so hesitant?

He couldn't leave, not now. It was too soon. It seemed as though the long two years spent with John had become only seconds in light of the knowledge that their time together was being brought to a screeching halt.

Sherlock didn't want to go. He loved John –Loved? Was that the word? Yes, it had to be. It seemed to fit.

It was strange how the awful feelings weren't the only ones trapped inside –they took everything else along with them.

Sherlock was running out of time, and he knew that if something happened to John, it would be the detective's fault.

Sherlock would have to disappear no matter what, and he couldn't take John with him. This was an awful thing to do, but Sherlock would just have to live with it.

After all, he was no stranger to awful things. With regret and sadness weighing him down, Sherlock Holmes jumped.

He would be lost without his blogger, but he only hoped his blogger would not be lost without him.

**Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this story. It is based on the song "Trade Mistakes" by Panic! at the Disco. Please leave me a review with your thoughts!**


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